


Sweet Just like Frustration, My Senses on the Run

by sanmyshuno



Series: Wideboys 99 Flake Remix [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (Kinda) Big Dick Humiliation, (They're both adults. Ren is in his 20s and Hux is in his 30s)., Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Armitage Hux is Not Nice, Blow Jobs, Bottom Armitage Hux, But Mostly Just Big Dick Praise, Crying, Dirty Talk, Dom Armitage Hux, Dom/sub, Enthusiastic Consent, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, How Do I Tag, Hux Defiently Has Some Issues, I don't know, I think that's it - Freeform, Kylo Is Called Both Ren and Ben, Kylo Might Have Some Issues, Light Praise Kink, Light daddy kink, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Name-Calling, Objectification, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Phone Sex, Power Bottom Armitage Hux, Top Kylo Ren, Topping from the Bottom, Under-negotiated Kink, Verbal Humiliation, sub kylo ren, touched starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22239181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanmyshuno/pseuds/sanmyshuno
Summary: As ugly as a statute he would be, he’s probably worth just as much as those marbled classics in the Galleria dell'Accademia di Firenze.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo, Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Series: Wideboys 99 Flake Remix [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634800
Comments: 14
Kudos: 128





	Sweet Just like Frustration, My Senses on the Run

**Author's Note:**

> (In which Hux judges wallpapers and how the lapels of suits are tailored).  
> Unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own.  
> Title from Mika’s “Ice Cream”.

> **Sweet Just like Frustration, My Senses on the Run**

Hux remembers when he had first set eyes on the Solo boy. He was standing behind his father, posed proud and polite, watching on as Brendol makes stilted, but otherwise pleasant conversation with Senator Organa; her husband standing a little further away, but close enough that it’s not entirely obvious he’s trying to exclude himself from discussions. Occasionally, when he thinks he can get away with it, he tries and sneaks pulls from his hip flask, careful not to get a possible scolding from Organa.

But political conversations have always been a bore, and Hux soon switched off, not particularly caring about taxes and money and family businesses as much as he probably should. Instead, his eyes drift to all the other partygoers, dressed to the nines and sipping tiny flutes of champagne while making equally dull conversation, no doubt. 

None of them holds his attention longer than a few seconds. Not until he spots _him_ , over the shoulder of a woman dressed in a floor-length red gown, dark skin glowing in gold jewellery, just beyond the way and almost painfully obvious. 

He was leaning against the wall, trying his best to stay away from the large clusters of people, all-black suit and hair barely helping him disappear into the darks and patterned emerald wallpaper. He hasn’t gone completely invisible, too large and imposing for that — despite what he’s trying to do with his hunched shoulders and pigeoned toes — but more like blending in. Sure, he’s noticeable, but why would you bother? He’s taking up as much space in both the room and the minds of people as a statute would.

As ugly as a statute he would be, he’s probably worth just as much as those marbled classics in the Galleria dell'Accademia di Firenze.

Truly a disgusting tragedy. 

But, regardless, he’s intrigued by Solo’s sad-looking eyes and soft mouth, who’s entire demeanour screams _I don’t want to be here. No, not at this entire event but this life in general_. 

Poor boy.

It should feel ridiculous calling Solo a _boy_ , Hux thinks, as he politely excuses himself from talks about the senator’s latest dealings with the UN. Even with the ten-something year age gap between them, it’s hardly worth mentioning when thinking about the pretty things hanging off the arms of a majority of the male attendees, his own father included. 

(Long legs and chocolate brown hair are a sight to see, but not too much to talk to, frankly. An honest downgrade from his mother, whose greying hair and sharp smile makes for wicked conversation and sly insults. Hux truly hopes he ages like her, as opposed to the sadden husk of man his father is, who hides behind the family name and expensive girls in Chanel).

Nevertheless, he weaves through the other guests, polite _hello_ s and _one moment_ s being sent to passersby who no doubt want to discuss business trades and his eventual overseeing of his father’s company. He doesn’t care about nonsense like that, not when he has his eyes on the prize. 

“Ben Solo,” Hux says, clipped but not impolite, with just a hint of amusement tinging the ends.

“It’s Ren,” Solo — or _Ren_ rather, it seems — says, “Kylo Ren. I don’t — that’s not… only _they_ call me that”. There isn't any real understanding of who _they_ are considering _everyone_ calls him _Ben Solo_ , except for the man himself, apparently.

“Ren, then,” Hux agrees, now not even trying to hide the humour in his tone. He sticks out a polite hand, mocking half-smirk at his pseudo-courteous introduction, “Armitage Hux”. His levity only growing when Ren doesn’t take the offered hand. He lowers it back to his side, face not giving anything away.

“I know who you are,” Ren replies. He sounds openly annoyed like he isn't even _trying_ to mask his displeasure about being here, let alone being _approached_ by someone else. 

“Of course,” he says easily, not put off by the attitude like how Hux was probably hoping it would be. If anything, it was quite the opposite. “And how has your evening been, Ren?”

They begin to chat; mostly polite conversation — made by Hux and weak-worded responses from Ren — that was occasionally interrupted by comments by Hux that are just _a little_ too personal for their first encounter at such a high-scale event, liking the way Ren stampers and shifts when Hux probes too deep or hits what’s apparently a weak-spot. At one point a waiter comes around, shiny silver tray topped with glasses of champagne and Hux takes one, deft fingers cradling the stem with second-nature ease. He’s sure to wave the waiter off before Kylo can take a flute for himself. Hux is sure not to miss the obvious look of annoyance from Ren as he does so.

He can feel Ren practically sinking under the pressure of Hux’s gaze, the put-downs of ill-placed comments making red rise to his cheeks and reach out to decorate those impossible ears of his. It fills him with a sense of mirth, knowing how easily Ren would go down for him; knowing how he’d fall to pieces so pretty. Underneath his heated cheeks was a wonderful mixture of desire and confusion — like he’s _feeling a lot but he doesn’t know what he’s feeling a lot of_.

It’s a type that Hux knows all too well.

Sipping down the last of his champagne, he ditches the glass on a waitress doing her rounds, noticing how Han is casting a look at them. He’s peering at Hux mostly, a knowing look as if to say he knows exactly what he’s up to. Sleazy understands sleazy, he supposes, and throws Solo an understanding smirk. 

Hux’s hands smoothing down some imaginary wrinkles in Ren’s suit lapels, noticing how awkward the tailoring is on them. “Come,” Hux says, already walking off without waiting for a reply, internally filled with triumph when he can hear Ren’s footsteps fall in quickly behind his. Hux leads them through the crowds of people, a possessive hand laid on the lower part of Ren’s back.

There’s a roped-off section near the front of the house — no doubt there to try and deter guests from wandering into the host’s personal space — which Hux unhooks and slips past, sending an inpatient look Ren’s way when he hesitates to follow. 

Hux doesn’t stop at the first door in the corridor, instead they follow the long hallway down some. Once he does stop, he tests the door, thankful to mind a bathroom behind it. He shoves Ren inside, locking it behind the both of them. 

The bathroom is small, at least compared to what he would expect from a house of this size, but it’ll do, he supposes, knowing he won’t need all that much room for the plans he has planned. The awfully outdated yellow-ish wallpaper is enough to make Hux want to sick, however.

Hux backs himself up until he’s perched against the counter. Ren follows him, but not entirely by choice, the pull of his frustrating lapels guiding him until they’re flushed together. It’s not a forceful tugging but more like a firm assist. Hux knows that someone of Ren’s stature could easily break away and beat Hux up if he truly didn’t want to be here.

He doesn't kiss Kylo, because why would he? Instead, he grips Ren tightly by his hair, fist flush against the base of his skull, and _pulls_ , Ren’s mouth opening in a silent gasp as his head pulls back. Hux lets his teeth graze against the pressure point of Ren’s exposed neck, relishing in the shudder he receives. He’s careful not to bite down too hard; as much as he would love to see — _taste_ — blood, Hux still isn’t entirely convinced Ren is worth staking a claim on ( _yet)_.

Ren’s fist curls up in tight balls at his sides as his eyes are squeezed shut, and there’s clearly some internal debate that’s fighting to get to the surface but gets quashed by the mixed feelings of embarrassment and arousal. 

Hux ghosts his lips up from neck-to-ear, relishing in Ren’s shudder at the tickling feeling. Up this close Hux can many more of Ren’s physical flaws — some slight discolouration in his skin, a few of the smaller moles he didn’t notice before, a hair just underneath his earlobe from the most recent, patchy shave. Ren’s breathing in shallow, shaky breaths but is otherwise fairly motionless. “I want you to please me,” he says, “do you know how to do that?”

Hux doesn’t let his eyes stray from Ren, watching with intensity as Ren struggles to process what’s being asked of him, mouth opening and closing like he doesn’t know how to reply. His pulse is quickening and his blood is thumping in his veins in questionable need. 

He tries to duck his head in shame, but the tight hold doesn’t allow him much control over his own movement, “yeah,” he finally says, barely a note above a whisper. 

There’s a moment of silence as Hux takes it in. The knowledge that the son of one of the most powerful people in the world is acquainted with getting on his knees when, at no point, has there ever been any indications of a relationship regardless of gender. 

“Good,” he says simply, both hands coming to rest on Ren’s shoulders, gently guiding him down to his knees. Ren doesn’t go down gently though, his huge and lumbering body hitting the tiles with such a muted but heavy thump Hux is surprised they didn’t crack under the pressure — both Ren’s knees and the tiles. 

Finally, for what feels like the first time of the night, Ren actually looks him in the eyes. They’re blown out, deep and dark with lust and barely able to focus. He’s looking up at Hux expectantly for some kind of instruction, but all Hux does is raise in eyebrow just enough to to carry a feigned look of frustration which makes Ren shrink and flush with embarrassment. He fumbles with Hux’s belt, tugging it loose enough to get through the layers. Hux adjusts himself to help, but only slightly, but still leaning smugly against the counter.

He’s still mostly soft but is quickly thickening in the palm of Ren’s ridiculously large paw. Fingers wrapped a fraction too loosely around Hux’s cock, Ren concentrates on slowly stroking him, watching in dazed fascination as he works Hux’s foreskin. Slowly, Ren starts to stroke with more confidence as Hux’s body reacts, swelling in Ren’s unfortunate grip. Looking up at Hux through his dark eyelashes, Ren is met by a look of borderline boredom. 

“Are sure you’ve done this before?” Hux asks, sounding like he feeling genuinely bad for Ren, “because I’m hardly impressed so far”.

Ren looks down quickly, sadden like a scolded child, “sorry,” he says quickly and sounding legitimately guilty.

“Just try better,” Hux says, adopting the tone he remembers his father using when he failed at something as a child. This seemed to do something for Ren, whose grip tightens with a heated flush of embarrassment stains Ren’s face, no doubt making it way underneath the tight collar of his shirt.

 _How exciting_.

And Ren does try better — licking up the underside of Hux’s cock, eyes fluttering closed as he takes the first taste. He places an awfully romantic seeming kiss to the tip before sucking the head into his mouth, a barely-there moan escaping from his lips. 

Hux runs his fingers through the overly-greased strands of hair on top of Ren’s head, letting out a small breath. He urges Ren to take more, a slight pressure that he responses eagerly to, feeding more of Hux’s cock into his mouth, plush lips stretching around the width. Determined to please, it seems, Ren starts to bob his head in a steady rhythm, hands bracing themselves against Hux’s thighs as he shifts on his knees, finding a better position to take Hux down his throat.

“That’s it,” Hux praises, breathlessly. Ren moans, pulling himself off to steady his breathing, lungs heaving under the broad expense of his chest. Hux doesn’t force him back down but instead looks on with curiosity. 

Once Ren got his breathing back under his control, he’s feeding himself back onto Hux’s cock, relaxing his mouth and focussing on trying his best to breath through his nose. Disgusting and wet gurgling sounds fill the small room as Ren makes a mess of drool all along the length. 

When his cockhead brushes against the back of Ren’s throat, Hux lets out a groan. Holding Ren by the hair, Hux keeps him in place, enjoying the feeling to the hot tightness around himself. Ren sputters around the intrusion, sputtering spit everywhere and coughing slightly as tears begin to well up in those dark puppy-dog eyes. And _oh_ is it a beautiful sight and Hux is sure to tell him this — to tell him how beautiful and disgusting and disgrace he is through somewhat measured grunts.

It’s an intoxicating thing — to have a man such as Ren, filled with so much power and strength and promise beneath him, obscenely red lips bright red with abuse. Soon it all becomes too much and he forces Ren’s face flush against his stomach as he cums, savouring the way that Ren gags messily. He lets the bursts of cum coat the inside of his mouth, moaning at the taste of it before swallowing it down.

Ren looks up at Hux, face stained with tears and flushed an incredible shade of red, like he’s the second coming of Jesus.

“That’ll be enough, Ben,” Hux says deliberately, tucking himself back inside of his pants and buckling his belt.

“ _It’s Kylo_ ,” Ren says through a wrecked voice and fallen face; although it all falls on deaf ears as Hux turns in place to primp himself up in the mirror, adjusting an errant strand of otherwise immaculate hair and straightening his already in place tie.

Ren is still kneeling on the floor, eyes downcast and still wet with unshed tears. His hair is a dishevelled mess to go along with his suit. The heels of his hands are digging into the meat of his thighs, obvious tenting in his trousers from where his erection strains against the material. His breathing is rough from the abuse, body wracking with every jerky intake of air. Hux uses the pointed toe of his leather loafer to push Ren’s body out of the way, who just crumbles in place and doesn’t move as Hux brushes past him and out of the bathroom, leaving Ren alone with the stench of sex and his feeling of devastating shame. 

Hux worms his way easily into a conversation between his father and a man he quickly recognises as Enric Pryde. He spends the next few moments sipping on a new glass of champagne and nodding along at the appropriate moments when he sees Ren re-enter the room, looking better than the state Hux left him in but still fairly rough around the edges — his face has gone back to its original colour and his hair and suit straighten back out, although his lips still look bruised to the heavens. He beelines to his parents, leaning down to whisper something in his mother’s ear — leaving Hux wondering how he must sound right now — before stalking off, not worried about all the people he shoulder barges on the way out.

* * *

There’s a certain level of impersonal from Hux’s personality that carries into his apartment. Between the grey walls and white slate tiles there’s an almost eerie, unlived in feeling throughout the place. The minimalist nature of everything is entirely a stylistic choice — clean-cut and simple, but he still gets it tidied every morning by a woman that he’s never met but always places a heart-shaped lavender-filled chocolate on his kitchen island, which he unwraps and pops into his mouth first thing when he comes home.

It’s not lonely though, not in the least — he has Millicent.

Hux is done for the day, dressed down to his shirt-sleeves with the first couple of buttons of his crisp white shirt undone. There’s a glass of red wine on the coffee table beside a book and a small serving of deli meats and cheese. Hardly something qualifies as a _meal_ , but it’s too late to for Hux to cook something for himself.

 _Finally_ , with Millicent on the cushion beside him and soft music playing unobtrusively in the background, he can sink into the leather of his sofa and _relax_. 

He scratches Millicent behind the ear a couple of times, enough to show affection and that he's with her but not enough to rouse her from her sleep and he gets a wave of the tail and a slight purr in reply. Content that his cat is content, he reached forward to grab his book, knowing he won't make too much process before the need to sleep kicks in. 

But, before he can even take his bookmark out, his phone ring, a shrill tone interrupting the planned peacefulness of his evening. It's so sudden that Millicent wakes and hops off the couch to search for somewhere quieter to nap. 

Grabbing his phone, he sighs, reading the unknown number. Usually, he wouldn't bother answering a call from someone not in his contacts list from his personal phone, but with his father distracted with extramarital affairs, Hux has had to pick up the slack often taking calls outside of business hours and some of those calls were somehow urgent enough to be sent directly to him _at home_. 

“This is Hux,” he simply says after answering the call.

It was Solo — pardon him, _Ren_ . Hux isn’t sure how Ren got his number, exactly. While being the _son_ of the great Senator Organa means that he has enough pull to get his hands on just about anything he wants, it’s not like Hux is just some common man without any influence of his own. He’s not even sure why Ren is calling _him_ of all people. Surely he has other people in his life he could speak to — Hux is quite sure Ren’s friendly enough with that cousin of his to annoying with whatever trivial nonsense he’s probably planning on spewing out because he’s already certain that this isn’t a business call. 

It’s been a few weeks since their little encounter at that party and Hux had managed to push Ren out of his mind, for the most part, hazy memories resurfacing occasionally but they go as quickly as they come.

Ren is stumbling through a messy introduction, a polar opposite to their previous meeting where Hux could’ve pulled more of Ren’s teeth out of his mouth than words. Hux lets Ren speak until he isn’t anymore, “what is it that you want exactly, Ben?” he asks.

He’s expecting to hear Ren loudly proclaim that _it’s Kylo_ again, but instead he goes quiet for a moment; the only reason Hux knows he’s still on the line is there heavy breathing through the receiver. After too long of a pause Ren finally speaks up, “I want to see you again”. 

“And why’s that?” Hux asks, voice level.

Ren is quiet again and Hux pictures him worrying that puffy lower lip between his teeth. “I… I like it — that other time”.

“You liked it,” Hux parrots but it’s not a question, “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I’m not a particularly nice man,” he hears a hitched breath on the other side, “do you enjoy it when people aren’t nice to you, Ben?”

There’s another beat while he wants for Ren to answer where he just watches the seconds hand tick across the numberless charcoal clock above his fireplace. “I do,” Ren finally admits.

“You what?” Hux presses.

“I like it,” there’s a swallow, “I like it when you’re not nice”. The way Ren says _you’re not nice_ instead of _people aren’t nice_ doesn’t fail to reach Hux.

Hux hums non-committedly. He could just hang up now, block Ren’s number and probably never have to deal with him again. As much fun as he was that _one_ time, broken babies with parental issues and a need to please are a dime a dozen and Hux could pick up any sweet little creature he wanted to. But, even so, there's a twisting feeling in his gut that tells him no, he shouldn't hang up. 

So he doesn't. "And you called me, assuming that I'd just drop everything _just this second_ to help satisfy whatever deprived thing is going on in that disgusting brain of yours?”

“Yeah,” Ren says, and Hux could hear the pathetic pout on those oversized lips. 

Hux picks up his wine glass and takes a sip. “How much of a spoiled brat _are you_?” A second. A sharp intake of breath. “That was a question, Ben, I’m expecting you to answer it”. Another pause, shallowing gasping ringing through the speaker. “I’ll wait,” Hux says, sounding anything but patient.

“I’m…” Ren starts but cuts himself off, a broken moan following. Faintly in the background Hux could swear he hears the slick, wet sound of Ren fisting his cock.

Hux barks out in laughter, “you can’t be serious. You’re touching yourself right now — to what, exactly”.

“Shit,” Ren grunts. He’s jerking his cock faster now, Hux can hear it as he imagines how Ren must look — all spread out, face flushed so beautifully and eyes squeezed tightly shut. He wonders how Ren’s cock looks in his gigantic hand — is it just as monstrous as the rest of him or does it look completely dwarfed by his hands. “M’sorry. It’s just… I. I’m sorry”.

Snorting, Hux takes another sip before replacing it on the coffee table and leaving back in his seat, one leg crossed over the other. “Is that what you want? For me to waste my night telling you how much of a depraved, stupid boy you are while you get yourself off?”

He hears Ren swallow hard, his whispered “ _please_ ,” sounding full of shame. 

“I can’t believe you,” Hux says, “I fuck that ridiculous mouth of yours _once_ and you’re selfishly calling my personal number. A number that, must I say, _didn’t give to you_ ”.

“I’m sorry,” Ren gasps again. It sounds like he’s crying now — fat tears rolling down moled cheeks. “Just _please_ ”.

“Please _what_?” Hux pushes. He’s hardening in his pants, cock filling quicker than he would like to as he listens to Ren’s pleasured gasps and slick hand. He uncrosses his legs, hoping to relieve some of the pressure. 

“Please talk to me,” Ren breaths.

“What could I possibly say to you. You should already know how disgustingly easy you are; weak-willed and absolutely greedy, not thinking about anyone but yourself. You’re nothing but a pathetic little _slut_ ,” he says, practically hissing, “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” Ren pants, “you are. _Fuck_ ”.

“Of course I am. You’re nothing special — just another sad, broken, sorry excuse for a man. If you weren’t the son of one of the greatest political minds in the world, you’d be nothing more than a two-bit whore, selling yourself to get by”.

Another gasping sob and choked moan, “ _ah_ , please,” he gasps, “ _fuck_ , _please_ . _More_ , I want more, please Hux”.

Hux starts palming himself over the tent in his pants, getting drunk off Ren’s broken moans. “I wonder how long you’ve been at it, trying to get yourself off all alone. Has it been a long time? Probably. I bet you’ve been making yourself come to memories of my cock coming deep in your throat”. He’s working himself faster now, squeezing his length through the material of his trousers. His hand clenches tightly around his phone as he tried to focus on not making any sounds, not wanting Ren to know how what this is doing to him. “It’s probably not enough anymore. You need _more_ ”.

“I need more,” Ren moans out in agreement, “I need _you_ ”.

“Aren’t you sweet,” Hux mocks, “you trying to be good for me? Want to make me hate you a little less, Ben?”

“ _Daddy_ ,” Ren whispers, sounding like he didn’t even _realise_ he said it.

“Don’t call me that,” Hux demands, “I’m not your _daddy_ . I’m not here to take _care_ of you. I’m here to use you ‘till I’m satisfied. Once I’m done with you, I’m going to throw you away — replace you with someone _better_ ”. Ren’s crying proper now, full-bodied sobs that would be wracking his overgrown body. Hux makes quick work of his belt and pants, pulling out his swollen cock. 

“ _Please no_ ,” Ren whimpers. His breathing is ragged and the beautiful sound of Ren’s hand tightly fisting his weeping cock is loud enough that, when Hux closes his eyes it sounds almost like Ren is in his living room with him — kneeling on the soft white shag pile, body doubled over as he strokes his cock with rough, uneven tugs. 

“You take whatever I decide to give you and don’t demand anything more,” Hux says through clenched teeth, “you’re nothing to me, Ben”.

Ren’s rough gasps turn to deep groans before he shouts suddenly, a pained thing that sounded similar to Hux’s name. _Oh God_ — he just came. It only takes a couple of messy, frantic tugs before Hux is biting his bottom lip hard enough to try and stop his own groans from being heard through the speaker, come spurting from his cock in thick ropes.

They’re both panting hard, coming back down from their own intense highs. Hux lets his head fall back against the back cushion of the couch, eyes slipping shut. He feels sickened, the feeling of come cooling on his hands feels heavier than it should, considering. 

“Was that good for you, too?” Ren pants eventually.

“Of course not,” Hux says, feigning a voice of disgust.

“You didn’t get off?” Ren asks.

“No, I didn’t,” Hux bristles, “I’m not like _you_ ”.

“ _Liar_ ,” Ren sneers and, even through wrecked pants, it hits harder than it should have. Hux thumbs quickly over the _end call_ button and throws his phone off to the side. He goes to rub a frustrated hand across his face but remembers the coating of cum on his fingers. Instead, he hangs his head, equally filled with annoyance and anger and guilt when he sees his softening cock laying pathetic and limp against his thigh.

* * *

They don’t talk again for a few weeks — Hux ignoring Ren’s multiple-a-day phone calls before blocking his number entirely. He forces himself to work around the clock, distracting himself with paperwork and meetings. He drags himself back from work long after the office closes its doors for the night, foregoing picking up his lavender chocolate from the slowly growing pile to instead curl up with Millicent in bed. 

It’s taxing. It’s stressful. All he’s doing is replacing one stress another, but at least one is making him money and helping him grow a global empire whereas the other is making him feel bile rise in the back of his throat for _god knows_ what reason. 

Nearing nearly a month of complete silence and abysmal sleep, Hux ends up leaving Millicent in the care of his co-worker Phasma while he attends a fundraiser dinner because, while he’s going to hate every moment of it and be miserable the entire time, at least he'd be doing on the company’s dollar and drinking bottomless glasses of expensive wine courtesy of whatever charity he was actually there to throw a few thousand expendable dollars at.

As he shakes his final hand and kisses the last, overly powered cheek, it’s really no wonder why Brendol sent him instead of going himself. Hux may be a bad man, but he’s no monster. He knows the people and the places that deserve his small amount of empathy. Charity is usually one of them.

He doesn’t have to go far after the event, the dinner taking place in one of the many overly decorated function rooms. He takes the elevator up to his floor, fixing his uncrooked tie in the reflective walls for absolutely no one but himself.

Or so he thought.

Standing about halfway done the endless expanse of the hallway was Ren, holding his fist in a way that definitely suggests that he had just punched the hotel room door in front of him. “Are you following me?” Hux asks, arms folded totally undefensely in front of him.

“What? No. What,” Ren says, like he’s legitimately shocked he would be accused of that, “I’m here. Same as you”. 

Hux snorts, “they sent _you_?"

“I could say the same,” Ren returns. 

“I didn’t even see you,” Hux says, highly strung.

Ren cocks his head to the side like he must’ve thought it was cute or something. But it looks pathetic, especially with his injured hand cradled to his chest, “were you looking for me?”

Hux steels himself and lifts his chin, “of course not,” he says, pausing for a second, “not that it’s my business, but what, exactly, are you doing?”

Ren flusters, obviously embarrassed, “you’re right. It’s none of your business”. But all it takes is a perfectly raised eyebrow from Hux to make him admit, “I lost my keycard. I can’t get into my room”.

A beat passes between the two of them, with Hux staring directly past Ren’s head to focus on the garish wallpaper. “Well,” he eventually says sharply, “I’ll leave you to it”. And follows the hallway runner down further, barely brushing against Ren’s shoulder, before reaching his door. He pulls his own keycard out of his wallet with unnecessarily flourish to unlock the door and steps inside without looking back.

He doesn’t know how long he paces around his room in socked feet, suit jacket and tie having been removed and a finger of scotch left undrunk on the wet bar. It couldn’t have been too long, the ice in his glass not get melting. But he does stop eventually, glaring at the fire evacuation sign laminated on the back of his door as if _it_ was the main cause of all of his frustrations. 

Without his brain’s consent, his body is throwing the door open, glancing down the hallway. Ren was, in fact, still there — sitting sadly in front of his door, pouting childishly at his bruising knuckles. Immediately his eyes shoot up and they’re awfully full of hope. “Get in here,” Hux says, turning his back. Even with it dulled by the plush rug, he can hear the thunk of Ren’s huge body rushing to meet him.

Hux downs the entirely of the single malt in one mouthful, cringing as the ice clinks against his front teeth. Ren steps inside with slight hesitancy, closing the door behind him with a soft _click_. Surging forward, Hux grabs a fist-full of lapels — the tailoring much better this time — and pulls Ren in for a bruising kiss. 

Ren, for all his size, goes along with it easy, letting Hux control everything about it. There’s a faint taste of whiskey on his tongue which Hux wasn’t expecting. But for all it’s intensity it ends too quickly for Ren’s liking, trying to follow Hux’s lips with a slight whine. 

Hux walks himself the few steps to the bed, shedding his expensive clothing on the floor as he goes. Ren follows, intoxicated with the sight in front of him. He’s more hesitate, but shimmies out of his clothing, letting them join Hux’s in the pile.

Hux takes Ren by the hand, pulling him down with a smirk to kiss again. Ren is careful with his hands, placing them delicately on Hux’s chest, who lets on hand tightly hold Ren’s jaw while the other knots in Ren’s less product-packed hair. There’s a bottle of lube already on the bedside table because, regardless of whether or not Ren was here, Hux was going to use this time to take care of himself. Using his hair, Hux pushes Ren away.

Grabbing the lube, he settles against the extra thick pillows, bending and spreading his legs to expose himself. Ren looks on, a torn look obvious on his face as he clenches his hands in his lap, hard cock bobbing — which was, in fact, as ridiculously huge as Hux thought it would’ve been. Hux coats his fingers in lube, tossing the bottle onto the other side of the bed. “Here what I want you to do,” he says and he starts teasing himself, “I want you to touch yourself while I ready myself. And if you come before you’re inside me, I’m kicking you out and you’re sleeping naked in the hallway. Understand?” Ren nods. “Understand?”

“I understand,” Ren replies, deep voice sounding incredibly weak.

“Good,” is all Hux says before he starts. He quickly tubs his slickened fingers over his hole, coating it in lube. His first finger slips in easily and he savours the feeling, watching as Ren strokes himself; his pace looks much to fast to hold off for too long. He adds a second finger quickly, letting himself give an exaggerated groan, which Ren seems to enjoy — giving a tight squeeze to the base of his cock. “Do you like this?” he asks, scissoring his fingers.

All Ren can do is squeeze his eyes closed and nod, putting all of his focus on not coming. Hux doesn’t bother pulling him up for it, instead puts his attention to fucking himself open. He lets his other hand drift to his chest, pinching a nipple between thumb and forefinger. 

The novelty is watching Ren fuck his fist wears off soon enough, and Hux shoves the last finger in himself, working it quickly. It’s not his best prep, especially at the thought of taking someone as big as Ren but he’ll make do. “Stop it,” he demands, shuffling out of his spot and pointing to it, “lay there”.

Ren is quick to obey, practically throwing himself down on the mattress, arms and legs spread eagerly out at his sides. Hux throws a leg over Ren’s body, settling himself on his thick hips. Ren doesn’t move, not even a buck of his hips, as Hux sinks down, taking Ren’s girth in one fluid motion, gasping silently as it fills him. Ren isn’t as quiet, a loud groan ripping through him and causing his chest to vibrate. 

“I don’t need you,” Hux says down to Ren, bracing his hands against Ren’s chest as he grinds his hips, “I don’t need you, but I want _this_ . I want you _crying_ underneath me, begging for relief while I use you _however I want_ ”. He says it all with the same modest tone he would be using if he had to list his favourite types of tea.

He lifts himself up again and dropping himself back down, quickly making a steady pace for himself. Ren keeps his hands to himself but they fist tightly in the sheets, moaning uncontrollably. Hux rides him hard and fast, using Ren completely for his own pleasure, Ren’s thick cock feeling amazing inside of him. “It’s… it’s a shame really,” he gasps, grinding himself down, “that a cock this _big_ belongs to someone as intolerable as you”. 

This time, Ren does buck up, the thick head of his cock nailing Hux perfectly and pulling a startled moan from him. Hux squeezes Ren’s face in a hand, his wide lips looking almost laughable, “you’re such a filthy animal,” he says, “come on — _pound me_ ”.

And he does. Ren takes both of Hux’s slim hips on his hands, large fingers digging deeply into the pale flesh. If he were in a better state of mind, Hux would wonder if makers would be left there. He doesn’t even need to touch himself before he feels his climax closing in on him. Hux leans down, taking the meat of Ren’s shoulder and sinking his teeth into it. He doesn’t draw blood, but it’s close, a sharp gasp rising from Ren. He rides out his orgasm, milking Ren’s cock as he slows his movements, but doesn’t lift himself off just yet, grinding lazily in place.

Underneath him, Ren’s hips twitch. “Do you want to come?” Hux asks, digging his blunt nails into Ren’s chest.

“ _Yes_ , _please_ ,” Ren whispers.

Hux tightens himself around Ren and demands, “then do it, _Ben_ ”. There’s a couple of twitchy thrusts from Ren before he’s biting out a groan, cock spurting come inside of Hux. They stay together just like that for a bit to catch their breaths. Hux feels gross, covered in sweat and his own come and with Ren’s coating the inside of him.

Eventually, once he feels better, Hux lifts himself up slowly, gasping softly as Ren’s softening cock slips out of him, a dribble of come sliding down his thigh. Ren stays where he was, long limbs dead and heavy by his sides as he breathes heavily. 

Sitting at the foot of the bed, Hux stretches out, the joints of his knees popping. Ren is looking at him shockingly romantically and a gross feeling starts to bubble deeply inside the bit of Hux’s stomach. “I’m going to get cleaned up,” he says in place of anything else. 

Ren pushes himself up onto his elbows weakly and there’s a look on his face that makes it look like he wants to kiss Hux. He hesitates for a moment, looking at Ren unsurely. A heavy second passes between them where they both linger like that. “I’m going to get cleaned up now,” Hux says again and this time he does move, limping slightly to the bathroom, sliding and locking the door behind himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Tellonym user: tellonym.me/sanmyshuno


End file.
